


linger.

by nimrodcracker



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alcohol Mediates Hard Conversations Yet Again, F/F, Humour, Mage Rights, Past Relationship(s), Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrodcracker/pseuds/nimrodcracker
Summary: She waits until Rowan drinks before she continues. "I think you misunderstand me. I meant,whowill you be doing now?"





	linger.

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read standalone, but context from the main fic - supermassive black hole - helps. immensely. consider this a preview since SBH isn't up yet.
> 
> Need some background tunes? Try [St. Patrick](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2SWk859CEU) by PVRIS (yup, there's a reference in the fic).

"What will you be doing now?" Surana says after a while, when the companionable silence between drinks have run its course. After months of watching death claim countless lives, it  _has_  been good to see her friend. Surana's the epitome of stoic, but she'll be heartless if death hasn't softened her heart in the least. Even if it's  _shems_  littering the streets, death is death.

Rowan scuffs her boot against the carpet. She makes a noise in her throat. "I don't know."

"Not something you hear every day."

"Hey!" Rowan waggles a finger, mock-offended. "Not everyone can ooze confidence like the first elvish Circle mage in decades to join the Ferelden Wardens. And don't wiggle out of this, friend. I  _know_  you love what you're doing, even if you've succeeded frustrating every  _shem_  you've worked with so far."

Surana smirks into her glass as she tips it, mulling over her response. "If only there was an achievement for that. I could use the sovereigns." She waits until Rowan drinks before she continues. "I think you misunderstand me. I meant,  _who_  will you be doing now?"

Rowan spits out wine in a spray of red, and the fireplace's flames roar for an instant. She swears as she places her glass on the table, her other hand flicking the collar of her shirt splattered with darkening stains. Prudent choice, casting aside mage robes for farmer's shirt and leggings - Rowan doesn't  _look_  apostate, if one can ignore the staff on her back. Then, she rounds on the elf with indignence and a finger raised.

" _Neria!_ "

"I'm not blind, Rowan. You're both attached at the hip - well,  _you_  are, and the Cousland girl keeps trying to shake you off. A refreshing surprise - I didn't expect you to chase after broody ladies."

"Well, I- have you to thank for that."

Surana stills, her beating heart the only part of her yet moving. "After all this time?" she asks, her mouth dry, her throat tight - not from the alcohol. "Still?"

"I wasn't fibbing that night in the library."

_-her hand is warm, far warmer than usual despite the creeping Lake Calenhad chill, and it's wrapped around Surana's hand on the window frame. In comfort, Surana surmises._

_"I'll never leave you, you know that? You're worth sticking around for." Rowan is frighteningly genuine, Surana feels, and it unnerves her only because she doesn't_ , know,  _how to behave around unmasked truth. "If only the Templars didn't stick their smelly arses in everywhere."_

_"Thank… you," Surana manages to croak, still fumbling for an answer that will never come. "Why are you doing this?"_

_"Because I-"_

_Surana jerks at the stutter, because Rowan_  never  _stutters. Amell's gifted with a glib tongue and demeanour endearing even to Surana, and this stricken look doesn't belong on Rowan's face._

_"Because you're worth it." Rowan smiles, not quite reaching her eyes. "No matter what."_

_Surana doesn't have the heart to warn her off._

"You said it was platonic."

"Only because I forgot you liked ladies too. And, well, I didn't want to make a move then. You were grieving."

It would've been a welcome distraction. Something to think about that wasn't the shit in her head. Surana can't-

It would've been a welcome distraction. Because she wouldn't need to confront her feelings. Wouldn't have been destabilised, or her focus divided, away from the day-to-day of avoiding Templars and the watchful gaze of the Chantry.

And maybe, felt that something for someone, the way she yearns to. Instead of wondering a day longer whether something within the curl of her ribs was  _fundamentally_  m-

"In another life," Surana begins, hesitant. Wishes the flames of the fireplace would reach out to swallow her whole, incinerate the sudden sinking sensation in her chest. Do something she can't bear to with her own hands. "We would have sundered the very heavens together."

Rowan looks at her, eyes glazed over. Doesn't shirk her gaze, but the firelight doesn't chase the shadows in the corners of her unreflective irises. She can be guarded, even if her demeanour suggests otherwise - many have been fooled.

But Surana? It takes one to know one. Mages learn to lie the moment their lives end… and begin, in the Circle.

Rowan pulls her into a hug that Surana doesn't squirm out of. Allows her friends to squeeze the air out of her lungs, Rowan's cheekbones pressing against Surana's collarbone. Surely, with that plaintive look Surana associates with a mabari fishing for treats from its master.

"Don't die, alright? I know why you're at Denerim. I know what Wardens must do." Rowan shakes her, makes Surana's teeth chatter. "Please."

Surana does not make promises she will break. She will not become her enemy.

"Then aid me in the battle that will come."

"'Course I will. That's another reason why me and Luce are here."

Surana smiles into Rowan's hair, savours how it smells of the autumn wind. Warm, familiar,  _safe_. "I am grateful."

Creators. She also cannot promise what she can't do.


End file.
